What Dreams May Come
by Morwen Elda
Summary: Albus Dumbledore brings about the fall of Lord Voldemort before he can begin his reign of terror but now, 44 years later, a new Dark Lord begins to emerge.
1. Prologue

_This is my latest story idea, and I was really excited to start writing it. This first bit is just the prologue, and while it is very short, I felt that it was the best place to start. Please leave me reviews, as the number of reviews I get will definitely influence how quickly the next chapter comes along._

_And of course, the Disclaimer. JK Rowling owns her characters. I am merely a child playing with the building blocks she gave me. However, in this prologue, the line "everyone and everything has a time to die" is from Sabriel by Garth Nix. So Rowling obviously doesn't own that particular line, and neither do I. _

* * *

**1947**

Deep within the Department of Mysteries sat the fabled Hall of Prophecy. Late on evening, long after all the Unspeakables had left, thousands of spun glass orbs sat upon rows after rows of shelves.

Some of the orbs gave off a slight glow, hampered by the thick layer of dust upon most of them, and others sat still and dark. The hall was light with soft blue light that came from these small glass spheres.

In the silence of the night, down row sixty-two sat one of these globes. The light within it glowed softly underneath the dust. Without warning the light grew bright and brilliant. The dust seemed to melt away and two pearly figures became visible within it.

A harsh voice began to speak, echoing loudly in the silent hall, despite the low whisper of the voice. One figure was tall, wearing half-moon spectacles that sat on the end of a long crooked nose, he was looking intently at the other figure.

The second woman had a shawl draped over her head, and beads tied into the strands of hair that hung down over her shoulders. One hand was pressed against her heart, and the bangles on her wrist had slid down to her elbow.

It was this woman who was speaking, seemingly unaware of her company. The words hung heavy in the dust filled air, and seemed to fade much more slowly than a normal echo should.

"Grown without love," she was saying, "seven Riddles will rule the land. Fear made them, and unless checked, love and luck shall be the only hope for death."

As the figure finished speaking the light within the orb dimmed and went out, leaving behind a dark mist swirling peacefully in a dusty glass ball. On the shelf below it in pristine writing was a small piece of parchment that read;

M.E.S. to A.P.W.B.D

* * *

Hundreds of miles from the Ministry and the now dark and silent prophecy, the moon was shining bright over a field. The tips of the grasses shown blue underneath the lunar light, the moon being nearly full. 

In the distance the edge of a cliff could be seen, dropping off below, and also rising up to the side. The roar of the sea could be heard beneath the cliff, amplified by the cove into which it would crash upon the rocks.

The water seemed to be several feet below the level of the cliff, but nevertheless silver spray could be seen peaking above the edge. It gave the air a warm salty smell that carried on for miles away from this point.

Near the edge of the cliff where the tall grasses gave way into short but hearty foliage, a lone figure loomed above the landscape. His violet robes whipped about his boots in the wind, and the light of the moon made the silver streaks in his auburn hair stand out starkly in the night. His half-moon spectacles reflected the star-strewn sky.

His normally shining blue eyes were dull and set. The lines on his face were deep and pronounced, tracing down to the lips that were thin and determined. His arm was stretched in front of him, wand pointing down at the ground.

Directly below it's aim there was another figure. A tall, pale young boy, not much older than eighteen. His dark hair was short and had the look of normally well kept hair that was windblown.

Beads of sweat could be seen on his forehead, and running down his cheek. His mouth was partly open, and eyes staring blankly at the star-strewn sky. The knees were bent beneath the boys long black robes, and his wand rested in his hand, fingers still curled around it.

Albus Dumbledore looked down on the boy without mercy, finally lowering his arm and slipping his wand back into his robes. He walked off to pick up his heavy traveling cloak and returned to the body as he threw it around his shoulders.

"Of all the things I could have taught you," he said, looking straight into the blank eyes, "I never knew you would lack the most vital."

The old man knelt down beside the body and whispered, "I failed you, Tom. But let this be my final lesson to you," tears slid silently down each side of his face as he spoke. "Everyone, and everything, Tom, has a time to die."

Dumbledore sighed and closed the boy's eyes before standing upright and vanishing with a swish of his cloak.


	2. Chapter 1: Births

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_Sorry for the delay, I mean to have this chapter up much sooner. I've been busy preparing for my first performance, but I do intend to start devoting a bit more time to this piece._

* * *

**1980**

It was the first of March, and a beautiful day. The spelled windows reflected the glorious light that was shining outside, and even small bluebirds could be seen making nests in the trees.

The sunlight from the enchantment lit up the room, causing the striking red hair of the woman lying in bed to shine. Her hair was sweaty and falling into her bight eyes.

Molly looked down at her newest son with pride, and smiled back up at her husband.

Arthur was also bursting with pride, but was having a rather difficult time in showing it. His two oldest sons were playing with a snitch in the room, which they kept releasing and then diving after it, using furniture, and from time to time, younger siblings, as steps to be the first to reclaim it.

Bill and Charlie however, were only a slight disruption compared to that caused by the twins. Despite their two-year-old frames, they were wreaking havoc on the small room in St. Mungo's. In the last twenty minutes the two had entertained themselves by breaking their older brother's glasses, toppling Charlie off a chair in mid snitch-catch, sheared off Bill's pony tail, and set a small fire to the nightstand.

Of all the children only Percy was behaving. He sat quietly in a corner, leaned up against the wall reading a book.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Molly cooed to her husband.

"Huh? Oh yes dear, absolutely. Fred what are you-!"

Arthur hurried across the room to prevent Fred from nearly drowning his twin George in the water out of a flower vase that had been sitting on the table, before they set it on fire.

He sat back in the only chair in the room, ducking as the flowers that had recently occupied the vase went whizzing past his head in Bill's attempt to distract Charlie. His wife was still cradling her infant son, who like his parents and all of his brothers, had red hair clearly visible. It stuck up out of the blanket that Molly had wrapped him in.

Though he couldn't hear her words, Arthur knew that his wife was taking to her son, introducing him to all his other brothers, and telling him what a wonderful life there was in store for him. Her eyes had the same misty look she seemed to get any time the children did something cute, or especially when she found out she was pregnant.

Not for the first time, Arthur began to wonder if he shouldn't enroll himself into one of the community classes St. Mungo's offered. Perhaps something on stress relief, or better yet, birth control charms. But even as he considered the latter, he knew that he, just like Molly, was still hoping. Maybe the next one would be the little girl the entire Weasley family had been craving for generations.

However, Arthur knew that both he and Molly were starting to get a bit too old for children. With the newest one, they still had seventeen years worth of work to do, and there were ten the couple had already served. Nevertheless, their children were Arthur and Molly's prized assets.

* * *

Narcissa lay back in bed, resting against the pillows propped up on the headboard. Lucius smiled at his wife, noting how, as always, she looked beautiful. With her hand clasped in his, he traced his eyes over the soft features of her face, thinly glossed over with the sweat of labor.

Her breath a sweet music to his ears as he lowered his eyes to watch as her chest rose and fell. Her blond hair fell down from her messy pony tail, the golden strands brushing against his hand.

Lucius reached up and ran his fingers along his wife's cheek.

"You look more beautiful now than ever, my love," he said.

She smiled softly, taking slow deep breaths. The pain that had creased her brow during the birthing still left a trace frown over her eyes. Now that the baby was delivered, she could be properly tended to.

Lucius picked up a goblet full of a piercing blue liquid, tipping it gently into her mouth. Narcissa drank the potion gladly, feeling the rush of warm relief flowing through her body. As the metal clunked against the deep wood of the nightstand, an even sweeter music met their ears.

A small house elf with huge green eyes came in the room. The tips of his big green ears held high in excitement, and his pillowcase uniform wet with water from bathing the small figure he held in a bundle.

"Here he is, Master and Mistress!" the elf squeaked.

He quickly stepped up to Lucius, careful not to shake the infant and passed him over.

The elf departed to give the family a moment alone together, their first moment.

Lucius stood from his chair, the small bundle held in the crook of his arm, and slid onto the covers of the bed next to his wife.

Her deep blue eyes welled with tears of joy, and Lucius looked between the two most important people in his life.

The boy had his eyes, pointed features, yet smooth like his mother's, and his white-blond hair shown brightly in the light of the moon that could be seen out the window.

As he looked at his son, and watched his wife holding the infant, resting in their own bed, in this perfect moment of family, Lucius Malfoy was rapidly decided that June 5th was one of his favorite days of the year.

* * *

James Potter lay in bed beside the sleeping Lily. The healers had taken their newborn son to clean him up, and Lily, exhausted after twelve hours in labor, had fallen asleep. Her hand still clasped James' and her head rested lightly on his shoulder.

James watched as her vibrant auburn hair fluttered about her face, rippling her slow sleeping breaths. Every few moments, he would glance up at the door to their room, hoping that it would be open, and the healer would be standing there with is son in her arms.

He wasn't sure at what point his imaginings turned into dreams, but it seemed like he had only blinked, and there he was.

The small boy was nestled in his smiling mother's arms. Lily was gently nudging James with her elbow to get his attention. The tiny child looked like every picture James had ever seen of himself as a baby, except for his eyes.

The miniature James in his wife's arms had her vivid green eyes. Little Harry stared up at his father with that piercing gaze.

The moment would have been perfect, but there was just one thing missing…

No sooner than the thought occurred to James than the door burst open. In came three men, shoving each other through the door and making various celebratory noises.

The front of the pack was led by a man with long shaggy black hair that fell into his eyes in wisps. It left shadows on his face that gave him a handsome look, added to by the shining deep blue eyes he fixed on the youngest of the Potters.

"Congrats, Prongs. Shame he looks just like you," the man teased.

"He does not," James replied in mock indignation. "He's missing his antlers."

Everyone in the room laughed, though Lily and one of the other men rolled their eyes.

Remus was standing just behind Sirius, his own blue eyes alight with joy. Though he was as young as all of the others, he usually looked older, partly due to his lycanthropy. But no one in the roomed cared about this furry little problem, they were all focused on the child that had come into their lives.

Here, in the presence of such vibrant youth, the grey streaks in his hair seemed to fade, the lines on his face smoothed, and the circles under his eyes disappeared.

"I like his eyes the best myself," Remus mused.

"Oh shut up, Moony," Sirius replied.

"Only Lily and James get to tell me to shut up today Padfoot old pal." He chuckled, despite the sharp jab in his arm from Sirius.

The only one of the men yet to speak stood slightly back from the others. While they were all friends, he could sometimes seem a bit distant, as if uncertain of himself. Nevertheless, today his usually beady eyes were wide and excited.

At last he pushed his way forward to stand around the bed with the others.

"He's really cute," Peter squeaked.

Lily, still exhausted, held out the child to James, who cradled him close. Her cheeks were flushed with pink as she looked around at the men she had come to think of as her family.

"I'm so glad you all came," she whispered, tears shining in her eyes.

"Wouldn't miss it," Sirius assured her. "Not even a hundred dementors could keep me from being with you two today."

The infant was passed from James to Remus, to Peter, and finally to Sirius once each man had had the pleasure of holding baby Harry.

As Sirius stood beside the bed, young Harry cooing happily in his arms, Lily and James exchanged a glance.

Remus caught the look in their eyes and knew what was coming.

"Padfoot," James broke into Sirius's amusement of tickling the small child.

"Yeah, Prongs?"

"Lily and I want to know… will you be Harry's Godfather?"

There was a tense silence in the room as they waited for an answer. It was finally broken by a sharp bark-like laugh.

"Of course I'll be his Godfather!" He reached over and punched James in the arm. "What would make you think I'd say no."

"I never thought that," James said with as much of an innocent smile as he could muster. His failed effort caused the whole room to erupt in raucous laughter.

"As of today," Sirius announced, handing Harry back to his mother, "the Marauder family is complete."

"Here, here," the others chorused.

Remus conjured a glass of wine for each of them, and raised his own in the air.

"Long live the Marauders."

* * *

_Part of the reason this chapter took so long was because I couldn't decide how long I wanted it to be. I decided that since this is still a bit of a prologue chapter, to keep it short and sweet. From here on out you can expect the chapters to be much longer. Like I said last time, the number of reviews I get will have an affect on how soon you see the next chapter. _


	3. Chapter 2: The Woes of Being a Weasley

_Sorry it took so long for me to get this chapter up. I've been lacking inspiration for a while. Finally though, I present chapter 2._

* * *

The three year old sat in his high chair at the table, watching as his mother ran around the house. She continued to dash back and forth between the kitchen and living room, yet another redhead cradled in her arms as she did so.

Though Ron did not realize it, the first three years of his life had been considerably eventful. The house was constantly rumbling with some sort of action. He had been moved out of the crib in his parents' room and into a room on the top floor once his sister had been born. Since then the small child had slept poorly. There was a ghoul in the attic that liked to make loud noises, especially at night when things were at their quietest.

At the moment however, the small child simply stared at all the commotion he could swivel his head to see. His brother Charlie was out in the back yard with a three foot high plastic dragon. It could roar, and even fly a few feet above the ground, but the feature that most fascinated Charlie was the flames it could breathe. Not old enough to understand the flame freezing charm on the toy, Ron watched in amazement as his brother seemed to be engulfed by fireball after fireball.

Ron tore his eyes away from Charlie, and looked over towards Bill, who was zooming in and out of view of the window on a broom. He knew that Bill had been gone recently, and had been very pleased to see him return. The long-haired brother tended to pay more attention to Ron than any of the others, save for the twins, who just liked to torment him. Too young to understand that Bill had left for school, or that Charlie would be joining him in the fall, Ron simply watched from his high chair, wondering why his house was so crowded.

He had been there all morning, his mother running off to tend to his little sister after cleaning him up from breakfast. She had kissed him and said, "mummy will be right back," but had yet to say another word to Ron.

The child now turned his attention to the living room, where he could see his mother trying to teach the one called Ginny how to walk. Every little bit his mother would dash out of the room and yell at the twins. During these brief moments, Ginny would waddle several steps, then plop back down. Whenever her mother returned, she stubbornly refused to put one foot in front of the other, simply crying whenever she was set on her feet.

Ginny, having gotten annoyed with the walking lessons, started to cry continuously, her squalls masking the noise coming from the twins in their bedroom. Conceding defeat, Molly picked up her daughter and took her out into the back yard where she could be entertained by her brothers. Charlie had now mounted the small dragon toy, and was tossing a ball back and forth with Bill on his broom.

As Ron watched, his bottom lip trembled slightly. If only his mother would come and let him out of the high chair, he might be able to join in with some of the fun. The boy clutched his teddy bear closer to his chest and buried his face in it, a few silent tears starting to well up in his eyes.

After what seemed to be an eternity to Ron, the twins dashed down the stairs with toy broomsticks in hand. They ran out to join his other siblings. With the twins zooming along a couple feet off the ground and Charlie on his dragon, Ginny started to feel left out, and was soon wrapped in her brother Bill's arms while he zipped around the yard.

Ron could hear his mother yelling at him to be careful, but Bill loved his little sister. He was just steering the broom, careful to stay low to the ground, and Ginny was in charge of catching and throwing the battered red ball. Craning his neck, Ron was just able to see Percy sitting under a tree with a book in hand.

His lip trembled again before he let out a long loud wail. The child screeched as loudly as he could but it was still several long moments before his mother ran into the house.

"Oh! Ronnikins, mummy's so sorry. She just got so caught up in things. Come on, we'll go outside too."

Ron continued to sniffle as his mother scooped him into her arms. He frowned and clutched his teddy bear to his chest. Molly sat down on the ground in the shade with her back pressed up to the side of the Burrow and plopped Ron down on her lap.

The three year old squirmed and wiggled his way off his mother's lap, then started to toddle out to where his siblings were playing. His mother grabbed his arm and gently tugged him back. Ron wrinkled his nose at his mother.

"Want fly," he announced.

"There aren't enough brooms Ronnie, and you're still too young to fly on your own anyways."

"Want fly," he said again.

"In a little while sweetie, just sit down with mummy for now."

Ron glared for a moment, then ran over to the one he thought was Fred, teddy bear still clutched under one arm.

"Hi Ronnikins," Fred smiled.

He wrinkled his nose again and stuck out his bottom lip.

"Want fly."

"Mum said not till your another year older."

"Fly!" he shouted. And Ron reached out to grab the handle of the broom.

Fred slid off and wrapped both hands around it.

"Mum said no."

His brother gave the broom a tug and Ron's hands slipped down to the twigs in the tail. He whimpered slightly in frustration and announced again his desire to fly. Fred stood his ground insisting that their mother already said no. A quick glance at his mother told Ron that she was too interested in discussing Percy's book to notice if he got on the broom, so he refused to let go.

The two children played tug-of-war for a few moments, each gaining and then losing ground.

"Want…fly," Ron panted.

"Mum…said…no," his brother grunted back.

And then each boy gave a mighty tug on the broom. Fred being both older and stronger made his brother's hand slip further down and Ron wrapped his fingers around the tail twigs. He was reluctant to let go, but the old toy broom couldn't quite take the strain, and the handful of twigs came out.

Ron let out a frustrated wail and his mother finally came over.

"Now, now Ronnie, mummy said no." And she scooped the three year old into her arms and carried him back to where she was sitting. Ron cast a glance over his mother's shoulder and saw Fred grinning triumphantly as he swung his leg back over the broom.

Ron watched with his teddy clutched tightly in his arms as Fred kicked off from the ground. The small broom rose a couple feet into the air, and then wavered and rolled over, dumping Fred back onto the ground in a heap.

The five year old twin didn't really seem to mind the fall, after all him and his brother were usually tumbling around on the ground and covered in cuts and bruises. Fred simply hopped back up off the ground and mounted his toy broom again. The results however were the same. Fred picked himself up once more and tried again. After a third failed attempt he examined his broom and noticed the hole in the tail where Ron had torn out the twigs.

Fred looked at his little brother, shaking with rage, but Ron continued to pout. He saw Fred glare at him, and start walking over, but something else had suddenly caught Ron's attention. The bear clutched in his arms had started to move.

The three year old looked down at his teddy and, much to his horror, saw eight eyes looking back at him. Ron stared, his mouth open in a kind of silent scream. Then the creature started to move it's legs, wrenching itself free of Ron's terrified grasp and. It crawled slowly towards the boy's face, large pincers clicking right in front of his eyes.

Finally, the scream tore from Ron's throat. It was so loud that his mother jumped, Percy dropped his book, George fell off his broom, Charlie crashed into a tree, and Ginny started to cry.

As Molly turned around she gasped, quickly reaching for her wand and vanishing the spider.

"Oh, Ronnie, are you ok?" The only answer was more loud tears from the boy. "What happened Ronnikins? Who…" She broke off as she noticed the satisfied smirk on Fred's face.

"Fred!" She yelled.

"I'm not Fr-" the boy started.

"Don't even start with me young man. What did you do?"

"He broke my broom," and Fred waved the broom in front of his mother as if to prove his point.

Molly took a deep breath, wanting to further reprimand the boy for traumatizing his brother, but she knew it was useless. Fred was still only five years old, he could no more control his magic than Ron could have.

"I know you can't help it Freddie, but that wasn't a nice thing you did."

"Mum-"

"No sweetie. I know you can't control it, but that was mean. I think you need to go spend the rest of the day up in your room. No, no arguments. Intentionally or not, that wasn't nice."

Molly held out her hand and Fred turned over the broom before running inside and stomping up the stairs. When he reached his bedroom he slammed the door so hard that the glass shattered out of the window and rained down onto the grass where all the children were staring at the still crying Ron.

She waved her wand and the glass soared back up into the window pane. Still, she sighed and picked up Ron taking him inside to try to calm him down, letting the other kids go back to their games.

The next morning Ron and Fred refused to so much as look at each other. Both were still angry and would stomp past each other, and tried to avoid being in the same room. Unfortunately, it was raining outside, and that meant the kids would all be trapped together within the small confines of the Burrow for the day.

Molly was busy trying to mend socks and do laundry, and had simply crossed her fingers that Ron and Fred would keep avoiding each other instead of ending up in another confrontation. Bill had taken to working on a history of magic essay that he still needed to do, and would let his head drop onto his book every so often in frustration, causing Molly to smile.

Percy was upstairs in his room, and she assumed that her third son was reading. He rarely misbehaved, and so she didn't have to worry when he locked himself in his room. The twins were a different story. Molly feared those two being locked in a room together. They were only five years old, but had already managed more havoc on the Burrow than all the others combined. For now though, they were alternating between playing gobstones, exploding snap, and chess.

Charlie had immersed himself in a book on dragons, and would only pause from time to time to share an interesting fact with his mother, or occasionally with Bill who would complain about trying to do homework.

"It's summer time though," Charlie replied. "You don't do homework in the summer."

"We have holiday homework Charlie, and Professor Binns' class is hard enough to pass without missing assignments."

Charlie snorted.

"Just wait till next summer, you'll know what I mean."

Ginny and Ron were sitting in the middle of the living room playing with some blocks that Arthur had found while wondering muggle London. With all of her children seemingly under control, Molly went upstairs to try to tidy up the bedrooms.

Ginny watched as her mother disappeared up the stairs, and then turned to her brother Ron with a huge grin on her little face. He ignored his sister and stacked the blocks into small buildings to make a city.

The two year old reached over and poked her big brother in the chest. He glared and went back to his city. Ginny prodded him again.

"Stop," Ron told her, and continued building a tall building right in the center of his town.

For several more minutes the two children continued. Ginny poking her brother, and Ron becoming increasingly frustrated. Then, just as Ron finished building a bridge between two of his medium sized buildings, Ginny grabbed a block out of the pile he wasn't using, and threw it right into the tallest building, causing the whole city to crumble.

"With an arm like that you'll make a fine chaser some day Ginny," Bill commented.

Ron looked at the ruins of his town and let out a grumble before grabbing one of the blocks and throwing it back at his little sister. The wooden cube bounced off Ginny's head and tears welled up in her eyes before she let out a high pitched squeal.

Molly came dashing down the stairs and looked at Ginny for a moment before cradling the two year old in her arms.

"Awww, what happened Ginny?"

"Ron threw one of the blocks at her," Fred said.

"It hit her in the head," George finished.

"She did destroy his block town," Bill put in.

Molly however, had stopped listening before Bill commented. She set Ginny back on the floor and rounded on her youngest son.

"Ronald Weasley, how dare you throw those at your sister? You could have really hurt her. You could have put her eye out."

Ron felt his lip trembled and he started to sob. It wasn't fair, every time Ginny cried it got blamed on him. Every time he was forgotten, it was because Ginny needed something. He even got stuck in the room below the ghoul because Ginny couldn't sleep there.

Without even letting his mother finish her rant, Ron stomped up the stairs to his room and slammed the door.

As he threw himself down on the bed he felt a lump under his covers and pulled out a plastic spider. He screamed in surprise, then opened the door. The twins laughter was easily audible drifting up the stairs, and he knew they put the spider there. Ron chucked it down the stairs and slammed the door again with a shiver, then flopped back on his bed and let the tears slide down his cheeks. It wasn't fair.

* * *

_I will shortly begin work on chapter 3, in which we will get to see some of what's going on with young Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Remember, the more reviews I get, the faster I get chapters up._


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